


All Hail the Conquering Hero: an interlude at SHIELD

by The_Kinky_Pet



Series: Stories in the Power & Paradox Universe [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kinky_Pet/pseuds/The_Kinky_Pet
Summary: Really, it was none of his business.  There was no excuse for invading Captain Rogers's--CAPTAIN AMERICA'S--privacy.  None.Junior Agent Thomas Jones waited 45 seconds and followed him anyway.AKA: What went down at SHIELD between chapters 54 and 55 of Power and Paradox.  Something sure put a bee in Steve's bonnet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A few words of warning, none of them likely to surprise you if you've been reading P&P, but behind rot13.com code all the same: zragvbaf bs flfgrzvp frkhny unenffzrag, qvfpevzvangvba, C&C fcrpvsvp noyrvfz, zragvbaf bs enpvfz
> 
> It's been a long time coming!

Junior Agent Thomas Jones looked sullenly at his tray of industrial slop. He really, _really_ regretted forgetting his lunch in the fridge at home. He spared a moment’s pity for the Agents who lived on base, then picked up his fork with steely resolve.

Agent Jerry Bush leapt to his feet and sing-songed with a flourish: “All hail the conquering hero!”

Captain America had just entered the mess hall, carrying a tray of the same mediocre food and wearing a plain blue SHIELD training uniform. Tom felt as confused as Captain Rogers looked.

(Unless Jerry meant—)

“Come on over, Rogers,” Jerry said, patting the seat next to him. “Got a seat right here for you. I wanna hear this one direct!”

(Oh shit!)

Of course, everyone had heard the news about Captain America and Tony Stark; SHIELD Agents were bigger gossips than his grandmother’s bridge club. (Maria Hill asked Jason Nowicki to add a note to their personnel files; Jason Nowicki told Jenny Shaefer who told Andrea Chen who told Martin Gaydos who told _everybody_. Within 12 hours even the Junior Agents knew.)

But even Jerry could be that dumb.

Tom watched from the neighboring table as Vikram hurriedly moved to a new seat. The Captain cast him a questioning look as he went.

“Sorry?” Rogers said, but sat down all the same.

“Oh, don’t be coy,” Jerry said. “Come tell your tale!”

“You mean the extra terrestrial?” The Captain shrugged. “There’s really not that much to tell. It appeared to be peaceful and we were able to help the poor fella home. It's all in the mission report.”

Rogers picked up his fork and looked at his tray with obvious reluctance. Tom smiled—some things are universal.

“Pfft—not that!” Jerry waved Rogers’ words away. “Stark! What happened? And how much was in the pot?”

Tom nearly cringed on Jerry’s behalf.

“Excuse me?” Captain Rogers said, though he was starting to sound more stiff than confused.

Jerry looked disappointed. “Wait, isn’t it true? You and Stark?”

The Captain took a deep breath and said in an even tone: “I’m sorry. I think you’ve lost me.”

“The betting pool,” Jerry said, “On who’d be the first at SHIELD to get Stark down.”

Jerry said it slowly, like the Captain was a bit dim. Another agent vacated their table, fleeing the projected blast radius.

“Let me get this straight,” Captain Rogers said. “There’s a betting pool at SHIELD. About Mr. Stark’s dating life.” His voice was very calm, but Tom could see that the sturdy mess hall fork was buckling in his grasp. “And I take it there was some sort of competition?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jerry said grinning, like the proud parent of a dim toddler.

Tom winced. (It was like watching Jerry drive off a cliff in slow motion.)

“And you won!” Jerry continued, still oblivious. “I can’t believe nobody told you about it. I guess Dom didn’t want you to have a chance to join the pool.” He laughed. “I mean, really, like there was any doubt Stark’d go belly up for the one and only Captain America.”

The one and only Captain America was _livid_.

From his seat, Tom couldn’t make out what he was saying in a low, vehement voice, but he saw Jerry go pale and start shaking his head and protesting loudly: “No! No, it wasn’t like that! Just some silliness!”

His words did nothing to mollify the Captain, who slammed a fist on the table and hissed. He let go of the mangled fork. Jerry changed tactics.

“Look, I never actually put a bet in!” Jerry stammered. “Or gave it a try! I’m a happily married man! And it was all Dominick’s idea! He started the whole thing!”

Tom was neither surprised nor sorry to see Jerry roll on Agent Dominick like a snowball down a mountain. Tom had disliked Agent Dominick since the moment they met and he’d said, “Hey, kid, anybody ever tell you that you look _exactly_ like Lt. Col. Rhodes?”

(He didn’t. They looked _nothing_ alike—well, besides the obvious.)

Tom wasn’t sure if the intended subtext was “y’all look alike” or “you’re a scrawny little shrimp, unlike Rhodes, who’s a _real_ Dom” but either way it was clear that Agent “Dom” Dominick hadn’t meant anything good by it.

“Really, you should talk to Dom!” Jerry was saying. “It’s just now noon—he’ll be getting out of the B Gym! You could go talk to him about it!”

“I believe I will,” the Captain said, getting up and leaving his food untouched. He pointed a finger at Jerry and added, “We’re not done, though.”

Tom watched as Captain America strode from the mess hall. (It’s none of your business.) He hesitated for about forty seconds before following. (He may not have Rhodes’ robust build, but he was swift and silent on his feet.) But Tom nearly gave himself away when the Captain stopped abruptly in the hallway and doubled back to the cafeteria. At the sight of the Captain striding purposefully towards him, Jerry flinched, but Rogers just picked up his untouched lunch tray and carried it to the bussing racks.

Tom ducked over to the drinking fountain as Rogers once again exited the mess hall. He let the Captain get ten feet ahead of him, then followed at a casual pace. He took out his phone and plugged in the enhancement ear buds with a smile, pulling up Candy Crush and putting it on mute. The occasional sound of chattering agents passing by was loud enough with the ear buds to nearly make him wince. As he followed Rogers with his eyes glued to his phone, Tom worked to project the oblivious app zombie the older agents all assumed he was anyway. (Blah blah Millenials blah blah.)

As Rogers made his way to Gym B and Tom used all his training to follow unobserved, he supposed he should probably feel guilty for tailing Captain America.

But if Captain America was going to break Agent Dom Dominick’s nose, Tom was damn well gonna see it. (And then deny ever seeing a thing.)

Tom slid into the recessed doorway of Seminar Room 27, leaned back against it, and pretended to focus on his phone. He really needed to get a better cover game—he didn’t even like Candy Crush. He glanced up surreptitiously.

(Huh.) Apparently, Captain America also used his phone as a way to avoid eye-contact and deflect attention; as he lingered outside Gym B, Rogers fiddled with his phone, frowning with concentration, and the junior agents who began to approach (with wide eyed veneration) lost their nerve and filtered down the hall.

Agent Dominick was the last to leave the gym; he and Rogers were alone. (Or so they thought.) Rogers returned his phone to his belt pocket.

“Is it true?” the Captain asked immediately.

“Gotta be more specific,” Agent Dominick said, but his smirk belied his words.

Rogers’s fists balled at his sides and he bit out: “Is it true that you ran a betting pool on who would be the first at SHIELD to get Mr. Stark into bed, _‘by any means necessary_.’”

Dom wagged his finger at the Captain.

“If you’re here to claim the winnings, Captain, no dice,” he said. “You never paid in.”

“So it’s true,” Captain Rogers pressed.

“So what if it is?” Dom asked with a nonchalant shrug.

(Tom was pretty sure the whole ‘innocent, calm, unconcerned’ thing was a ploy to get under Rogers’s skin; it seemed to be working.)

“But since you ask, yeah, I organized it,” Dom said. “No harm in having a little harmless fun in our down time.”

“A little harmless fun?” the Captain repeated blankly. There was a long pause—Tom could practically feel Rogers’ blood pressure rising as Dom smirked in silence. 

“You think,” Rogers said, vehemently, “you think placing bets that exploit Mr. Stark’s orientation and sexuality is _harmless fun_?”

(The Captain was getting loud; Tom’s ears hurt with the enhancers.)

“It’s the very definition of a ‘hostile environment’! It’s harassment. Or worse!”

“Oh please!” Dom snorted. “Uppity little bitch probably enjoyed the attention.”

Rogers leapt at Agent Dominick. Tom thought he was about to witness Captain America in action—swift and bloody action. But the Captain froze before laying hands on Dominick. He took a deep breath and hissed, “How _dare_ you talk about Tony like that?”

“Awww, you gonna defend your little piece?” Dom taunted with a grin. “Fight for his honor? What little’s left of it.”

Rogers growled and Dom laughed.

“Sure!” Dom said, “Let’s go a few rounds—see how those magic potion muscles stack up against a guy who’s _always_ been All Dom.”

Dom put up his fists and started bouncing on his feet. His grin was nearly manic.

Tom watched from around the corner, mesmerized, forgetting even to feign interest in his phone.

“I wanna punch your lights out so bad right now,” the Captain said, his Brooklyn accent coming out thick like something from an old movie.

Rogers took another deep breath and resumed speaking so quietly Tom could barely hear it, even with the enhancers: “But I won’t. I won’t because it’s all too possible I’d break your spine on impact. Or shatter your nose and drive the bone shards into your brain, killing you instantly.”

A chill ran down Tom’s spine at how calm and deadly Steve Rogers sounded—because it sure wasn’t Captain America speaking in that murderous whisper.

Rogers shrugged and added, tone almost back to normal, “So I won’t lay a finger on you. Besides, Tony’d be steamed if I did.”

“I guess he’s the one carrying the whip in your relationship, if you’re taking orders from him,” Dom sneered. Tom’s mouth nearly fell open. (Did the guy have a death wish?)

The Captain shook his head. “Only a nasty piece of work like you would treat showing respect for my sub like its something shameful. Tony likes to fight his own battles; I admire that.”

Rogers turned and took two steps down the hall; Tom pressed back into the doorway and looked at his phone, schooling his features to distracted boredom.

Dom laughed and call out to Rogers: “Seriously? Maybe you _are_ an invert! After all that saber rattling, you’re just gonna walk away?”

“Yeah,” Cap said. Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw that he was smiling. “I think we’re done here.”

Rogers added over his shoulder, “And since I know how much SHIELD Agents pride themselves on efficiency, you might want to start packing now. Because the direction I’m walking is to Fury’s office.”

“Ooooh, I’m scared!” Dom rolled his eyes. “Your word against mine. Just because you’re Captain America, doesn’t mean they’ll just—”

The Captain took his cell phone from his belt. He tapped it a few times. Dom’s voice emerged: _“--little bitch probably enjoyed the attention.”_

“Like I said,” the Captain repeated, smiling with fierce satisfaction. “You’d better start packing.”

As he walked down the hall, leaving a fuming and blustering Agent Dominick in his wake, Captain America began to whistle.

Tom grinned. That was _not_ what he’d expected.

Captain America was one devious mothafucka.

**Author's Note:**

> At long last! I know some of you have been longing for this moment and, though I hope Steve and I managed to surprise you a bit, we hope it was still satisfying! Doesn't answer all your questions, but there will be more...
> 
> RL is a little rough, so comments extra appreciated! Any bits stand out to you? Make you smile, make you laugh, surprise you? 
> 
> P.S. When I first started writing this out-take almost two years ago, I wondered if Dom's brazen, unrepentant, and disgusting macho ableist orientationism would seem too over the top to be believed. Then Donald Trump happened. So here it is. Dark times in my country...


End file.
